Jericho Point
“It was an impromptu gig: no publicity, just Ricky and his guitar player working the kinks out of new material. Brian and Marc were with me. Jesse was already there, sitting at a table against the wall. P.J., we bet, would be there with Ricky, and we were going to have it out with him. It was an ambush.
Chaco’s on a weeknight felt like a coffee bar. The lights were low. Onstage a trio was swinging through Latin funk. Jesse had one empty Carlsberg in front of him and a second in his hand, half go...ne. His crutches were leaning against the brick wall behind him.
‘‘No sign of Ricky yet,’’ he said.
I took drink requests. A few minutes later I was standing at the bar when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
‘‘I take it back.’’ Karen Jimson was chewing her gum. Her fawn eyes looked contrite. ‘‘I shouldn’t have dissed you.’’ Dis seemed a gentle euphemism for claiming I’d stolen five grand. ‘‘Thanks. From me, and from my butt.’’ In the mirror behind the bar I saw Ricky walk past, chatting to his guitar player.MoreLess
Chaco’s on a weeknight felt like a coffee bar. The lights were low. Onstage a trio was swinging through Latin funk. Jesse had one empty Carlsberg in front of him and a second in his hand, half go...ne. His crutches were leaning against the brick wall behind him.
‘‘No sign of Ricky yet,’’ he said.
I took drink requests. A few minutes later I was standing at the bar when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
‘‘I take it back.’’ Karen Jimson was chewing her gum. Her fawn eyes looked contrite. ‘‘I shouldn’t have dissed you.’’ Dis seemed a gentle euphemism for claiming I’d stolen five grand. ‘‘Thanks. From me, and from my butt.’’ In the mirror behind the bar I saw Ricky walk past, chatting to his guitar player.MoreLess
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